


...And you know what bunnies like to do.

by jacksbits (fragilehuge)



Series: He's a Bunny, Baby [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilehuge/pseuds/jacksbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Jack still doesn’t believe Bitty didn’t know exactly what he was doing by sending all those pictures. He’d been </i>angling<i> for Jack to have to awkwardly get off in the bathroom, he just knows it.</i></p><p>
  <i>But Jack’s gonna get him back for it.</i>
</p><p>Jack still likes Bitty’s Halloween costume, and he’s going to show Bitty exactly how much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...And you know what bunnies like to do.

**Author's Note:**

> STILL JUST SMUT. But _seeeeeeriously_ , [Bitty's costume is great](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/133574802822), eh?
> 
> Again, for [Bee](http://bittyybee.tumblr.com). This part especially would not exist without them hahah. Thanks to [Rhysiana](http://rhysiana.tumblr.com) for looking this over.

Jack doesn’t love parties at the best of times, but he definitely doesn’t love them when they’re keeping him from spending time with his _absolute menace_ of a boyfriend.

Normally, he deletes the sexy pictures that Bitty sends as soon as he’s seen them. (They don’t use Snapchat anymore. Jack hates it. The pictures just _go away_ before he’s even looked at them sometimes). He hasn’t deleted the bunny selfies, though. It feels sort of risky to keep them on his phone, even just temporarily, but Jack wants to save the ones he got tonight to his computer. Saving them there is still a little risky, but Rans showed him how to set up an encrypted password-protected folder for his porn a while back, so it doesn’t make Jack too nervous. The pictures will be pretty safe there. And Jack knows he’s going to _really_ enjoy having them later.

But for the time being... Well, Jack is really aware of the fact that he has filthy pictures of his boyfriend on his phone, and no one knows, and no one _can_ know. If he ends up clutching his phone a little tighter than usual, keeping it in his pocket instead of leaving it out on the table he’s standing next to, well. No one could blame him for that.

The party is this semi-swanky black tie thing, in a ballroom filled with buffets of food and scattered standing height tables. There’s an open bar, but after Jack’s conversation with Bitty, he switched to water. It’s not like he was drinking heavily beforehand—he could honestly drive right now. Which is not a helpful thought. Jack can’t leave yet. It’s only a little after nine. George would yell at him if he left now.

Jack tries to tune back into the conversation he’s supposed to be a part of. Two women and their husbands are discussing... Aruba? Jack needs to pay better attention. George muttered to him that the woman on the right—slinky green dress, coiffed brown hair—donated 10 thousand dollars to the NHLPA Goals & Dreams fund last year. She loves the Falcs, and she’s from Montreal. Jack is supposed to charm her. He’s not sure why Georgia thought he could do that.

“It was incredible,” says Slinky Green Dress’s Husband. “We did a dive tour of an old German cargo ship, the _history_ of that thing was just amazing to think about.”

“Wow,” says Jack. “That does sound really interesting.” He gets _beamed_ at by all four of them, so Jack figures he’s done his part to appear like he’s paying attention for the moment. It’s not that he’s lying about finding it interesting. It _does_ sound interesting. He’s sure their whole conversation has been interesting. It’s not like it’s their fault that Bitty is so hot and so mischievous.

Jack still doesn’t believe Bitty didn’t know exactly what he was doing by sending all those pictures. He’d been _angling_ for Jack to have to awkwardly get off in the bathroom, he just knows it.

But Jack’s gonna get him back for it. Just a little while longer.

He can do this.

-

A little over an hour later (after Jack has been subtly cycled into two other groups by one of the PR people), Jack catches George’s eyes from across the room.

He does his best to look pleading, and she crosses the room to come talk to him.

“Okay, Jack,” she says on a sigh. “I know it’s late for you. Go home and get some sleep, alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jack says, not planning on doing either of those things. “Night, George.”

He turns around and does his best to walk casually out of the room. It’s still a fancy event. It’d be weird to run _._

Outside, in the dark of the parking lot, Jack might do something like power walking. But it’s still not running.

Once he’s in the car, he starts one of Bitty’s pre-game mixes (he _is_ tired, despite his determination to get to Samwell tonight, and Bitty’s thumpy pop music is good for keeping awake) and heads for the highway.

The 40-minute ride is definitely going to be agonizing, but it’s also kind of... good, Jack thinks. He’s already a little overwhelmed with everything he wants to do to Bitty. That costume is just—so—

It’s a lot, is all. The drive will give him time to calm down. To plan.

Jack wants to come into this with a plan. He needs to be prepared. Maybe he can make Bitty cry again. He managed it once before by putting Bitty in a cock ring and riding him as slowly as he could stand for an hour. Bitty had ended up nearly sobbing with how much he was begging Jack to let him come. It was awesome. Jack could definitely go for a repeat of that experience.

Though, on second thought, while fun, that had been a... loud afternoon. Back at Jack’s place in Providence, it didn’t really matter how loud they were, but it’s probably not a good idea to do anything tonight that’s going to alert the whole Haus to what’s happening upstairs.

Jack hums to himself. New plan, then.

-

When Jack comes in the front door of the Haus, the first thing he sees is Lardo and Nursey playing beer pong against some people he doesn’t recognize. They’re winning, of course. Lardo’s a hockey player and Nursey’s a cat. Jack doesn’t recognize the other team’s costumes, which is kind of par for the course for Halloween. Jack almost never recognizes people’s costumes.

“Jack, I didn’t know you were coming,” Nursey says, nodding at him. “You look sharp, did you come straight from that Falcs party?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, distracted. He’s looking past the two of them, hoping to catch sight of Bitty. The grey bunny ears should be visible over the crowd if he’s in the room.

Lardo looks smug and smirky enough that Jack is suddenly sure that Bitty told her what happened earlier. Or maybe she just figured it out. She does that.

(They hadn’t even told her they were dating; she just asked Bitty if they were, a week into fall semester. She’d followed up the question by swearing that they weren’t being obvious at all and she would literally die before she told anyone else, so it hadn’t been too alarming. Jack had just been relieved to have an excuse to tell Shitty, honestly.)

“Kitchen,” Lardo says.

“Thanks,” he says. To be polite, he adds, “Hi, Nursey,” but Jack is also already walking past him, so he’s not sure how much it helps.

When he gets to the kitchen, Bitty’s in the middle of a pie. Of course. There’s no one else in the kitchen, and the costume looks even better in person. Jack takes a moment just to appreciate the sight. Bitty’s pushed the hood off of his head, and his hair is mussed like he’s been running his hands through it, but there’s still miles of leg on display just for Jack. He can’t wait to sink his teeth into those thighs.

“Hi,” Jack says, from the doorway. Bitty drops the pie tin he was holding. The metallic clatter against the counter barely registers in Jack’s ears, because then Bitty’s _looking_ at him. And he looks... wrecked.

His eyes are glazed, pupils blown huge and wide, and there’s a deep red flush over his cheekbones and the bit of his chest visible through the deep v of the costume. His lips are a swollen, bitten red. And he’s looking at Jack like Jack imagines he looks at a puck when they’re down a point and have two minutes left on the clock, focus as sharp as a knife’s edge. It’s intense.

Jack likes it.

“So, you’re making a pie, eh? At a time like this?” Let it never be said Jack doesn’t take his chirping opportunities as they come.

Bitty looks down at the counter like he’d forgotten it was there. The pie plate has a crust in it. The filling—something dark, blueberries maybe?—is in a bowl nearby. Ready to go, it looks like.

“We don’t need pie,” Bitty says, and then he turns around and _completely abandons the pie_ as he heads for the stairs. He pushes past Jack without even saying anything else.

Jack’s fine with that plan, honestly.

He thinks he probably shouldn’t literally follow Bitty up the stairs, though. That’d be pretty obvious. Besides, Bitty will want to finish this pie tomorrow morning, in all likelihood, so Jack takes a minute to turn off the oven and put Bitty’s pie stuff in the fridge. It _is_ blueberry, upon closer inspection. Blueberry... maple, smells like?

After that, Jack peers out into the hallway. Bitty’s long gone. There’s a good number of people milling around—talking and chatting and spilling out from the living room and the room with the keg, but no one’s paying attention to him. Jack heads up the stairs.

Bitty’s on him as soon as Jack gets through the door.

“I can’t believe you made me wait,” Bitty says, breathless, already tugging Jack’s shirt out of his pants. Jack shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it toward Bitty’s computer chair. He should probably hang it up. He already knows he’s not going to.

“Have you been thinking about me this whole time?” Jack asks, leaning down to press a kiss against Bitty’s neck.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about you this whole time, what else would I be thinking about,” Bitty says. He’s so genuinely aggravated that Jack can’t help but laugh softly.

The costume has a zipper on the front, and Jack pulls it down slowly. He doesn’t want Bitty to take it off quite yet—at all? Could they manage that?—but he’s interested in the prospect of getting a little more skin accessible.

He hums, mouthing down lower, as Bitty complains, “I couldn’t even carry on a conversation with anyone, that’s why I gave up to make the stupid pie in the first pla—oh, fuck, _Jack_ —”

Jack grins against Bitty’s chest, teeth still tight around his nipple. That’s always an easy way to get a reaction out of him. After a moment, Bitty buries his fingers into Jack’s hair, pulling him sideways, so Jack sucks his other nipple into his mouth.

But then Bitty’s tugging Jack back up, muttering, “Can I kiss you already? Jesus.”

Jack lets himself get drawn where Bitty wants him. When he’s standing, he presses Bitty back against the door and captures his mouth. Bitty kisses him back hard, undoing Jack’s belt without even looking.

Jack _loves_ when Bitty gets riled up like this, all handsy and grumpily turned on. It’s fun.

“I can’t believe how hot you are,” Jack says, mostly into Bitty’s mouth. He can’t believe Bitty thought for a second that he didn’t think this costume was the _fucking hottest thing he’d ever seen_ , no matter how he’d responded to the SMH group chat. “It’s incredible, just look at you, I can’t believe it—”

“Jack, come on,” Bitty says, trying to unbutton Jack’s shirt without pulling away at all. They’re pressed too closely together for him to get very far. “More nudity, now, please, I’ve been waiting _three hours_ to fuck you, we can skip the foreplay—”

“Aw, Bits, but I like the foreplay,” Jack says, grinning. But he takes a step back and unbuttons his shirt. He likes the way Bitty watches him as he does it, anyway. He shucks his pants, too, for good measure, but he stops Bitty before he can take the bunny suit all the way off. “Wait. Leave it on for a minute.”

“You really like it, huh,” Bitty says, arching a brow, but he’s clearly pleased. With the zipper all the way down, the costume falls open on either side, exposing most of his chest and stomach. He looks _indecent._

Jack steps close, breath just ghosting over Bitty’s mouth, whispers, “I _love_ it.”

 

Then he scoops Bitty up and tosses him onto the bed.

“Oh!” Bitty says, landing on his back with a bounce. He’s laughing. There are benefits to working out for several hours a day that have nothing to do with professional hockey.

Jack knows where Bitty keeps his lube, and he grabs it before settling over Bitty on the bed. He sits up long enough to drizzle some over his fingers, then leans down over Bitty’s body.

“Time to take the costume off?” Bitty asks, looking up at Jack from beneath hooded lids. That’s not Jack’s plan, though. The shorts are so short—Jack figures he’ll be able to get his hand in there pretty easily.

“No,” Jack says, and slides his hand up Bitty’s thigh, up underneath the fabric. There’s a strap stretched taut around the curve of Bitty’s ass. Jack snaps the elastic. “Are you just wearing a jockstrap underneath this?”

“You could see my briefs,” Bitty says, a little embarrassed. “The jock was the only thing that wasn’t too long to wear with my costume.”

 _God._ Jack knows how short the costume is, obviously—he’s been losing his mind over it for the past several hours—but the knowledge that the costume is actually shorter than Bitty’s _underwear_ is still… provocative. Jack’s brain might kind of shut off. The next thing he knows, he’s got Bitty’s bottom lip between his teeth and one finger pressing into his ass.

“Come on, Jack, please,” Bitty says, grinding down on Jack’s hand. “Another, come on.”

Jack pushes a second, and then a third, finger in. He knows he’s probably getting lube all over the inside of the costume, but it doesn’t seem too important. He can just pay to get it cleaned later. Or buy Bitty another one, if he wants. Maybe they could keep this one specifically for sex. That’d be fun. Maybe they could even cut a hole in the—but Jack’s getting ahead of himself. He can think about all of that later. He sits back a little, getting his knees underneath him, and uses his free hand to pull Bitty’s cock out of the top of the costume.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Bitty pants, rolling his hips up to press his dick into Jack’s hand. He’s stunning like this, all spread out on the sheets, gasping and sweating beneath Jack’s hands. Part of him wants to keep doing this until Bitty comes all over the both of them, but that wasn’t the plan. And Jack still really does want to fuck him.

“Okay,” Jack says, deciding the plan was good after all. He spent 40 minutes on the plan. “Costume off.” He sits all the way back, pulling his fingers out, which gets Bitty’s attention.

“What—what are—oh.” Bitty sounds a little dazed. “Costume off, right, okay.” He gets tangled in the shoulders for a second, trying to shrug both arms out of it at the same time, but Jack takes pity on him and leans forward to help. After that, Bitty lifts his hips off the bed, and Jack tugs the whole thing off of him. Jack gets his fingers under the jock as he does it, too, so when he sits back Bitty is completely naked under him.

Jack just stares down at him for a moment, eyes following the pretty pink flush that runs over his chest. God, Bitty’s gorgeous.

“Jaaaack,” Bitty whines, running a foot along Jack’s thigh and up over his stomach. It kind of tickles. Jack flexes his abs a little, which makes Bitty snort and dig a toe into the muscle there. Then he huffs a sigh. “I’m waiting, here, Zimmermann. Put your cock in me.”

“Romantic,” Jack murmurs. He leans over Bitty, though, putting his weight on an elbow next to his head. With his other hand, he slips off his briefs. Honestly, Jack’s surprised he managed to keep his underwear on for this long. He supposes he had more important things to pay attention to, though.

“Mmm, of course,” Bitty says, reaching up to cross his wrists behind Jack’s neck. “You know me. I’m extremely romantic.”

“Sure you are,” Jack says. He gets a hand underneath Bitty so he can lift him up some, and Bitty shifts helpfully, thighs spreading wide. Jack ducks his head down to kiss him again, tilts his hips, lines them up.

Bitty groans as Jack sinks into him.

“Oh, fuck,” Bitty says, clutching Jack closer. “That’s good.”

Jack snaps his hips forward, hard. “Just good?”

Bitty only manages a breathy huff in response, which Jacks thinks might have started as an attempt at chirp—he can’t be sure. He grins against Bitty’s lips anyway, curling the fingers of one hand tight around Bitty’s cock. He’s just so happy. He feels so lucky to have this—Bitty panting into his mouth, making these perfect little noises of encouragement as Jack fucks into him. With his weight on the elbow next to Bitty’s head, Jack can just manage to reach his hand out and stroke it over Bitty’s hair. He can’t believe how soft it feels, how beautiful Bitty looks.

“I love you,” Jack says against Bitty’s mouth.

“Ahhhh, ahh, fuck, _Jack._ ” Bitty kisses him back messily, beyond coherency. “Oh god, oh— _oh_ —”

Jack feels the spurt of wetness over his hand as Bitty comes. It only takes a few more helpless thrusts for Jack to follow him.

“Oh my god,” Bitty says, weakly, at least three minutes later. Jack groans into Bitty’s shoulder, not moving at all from where he’s collapsed on top of him. “Oh my god.”

Jack’s pretty sure that was some of the best sex they’ve ever had. Top five, at least. And they’ve had plenty of good sex before.

“We’re keeping that costume,” Jack says.

Bitty giggles, wrapping his arms around Jack’s back. “We might have ruined that one, honey.”

“I’ll buy you another,” Jack mutters. Bitty’s running his fingertips over Jack’s shoulder blades, tracing through the sweat as it cools on his skin. It feels nice. Jack nuzzles closer.

“Alright,” Bitty says. His voice has dropped into that cute sleepy drawl that Jack loves so much. “Maybe we’ll get two.”

Jack snickers. “Sounds like a plan.”

Bitty sighs, stretching beneath Jack. “It’s time for sleep,” he says. “Well, time for a shower. And brushing our teeth.”

Jack presses a kiss to the joint of Bitty’s shoulder, but he rolls off obligingly. He can get behind sleep, right now. He’s not so sure about the rest of it. His whole body feels like molasses, sluggish and sweet.

Jack watches as Bitty pushes himself up. A patch of lube shines along the back of his thigh, and Jack smiles to himself. If he wasn’t so tired… Well. Another time. He has plenty of ideas for the future. Bitty wraps himself in a towel and toddles out of the room, and Jack lets his eyes slip shut.

When Bitty gets back ten minutes later, Jack’s already drifting off. He scoots over drowsily as Bitty climbs into the bed, wraps his arms tight around his waist. Bitty is clean and damp, and Jack snuggles against him, feeling safe and content and warm all the way through.

Bitty laughs quietly, petting a hand over Jack’s hair.

“Goodnight, darling,” Bitty says. “Love you.”

Jack is smiling as he falls completely asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> ...if you were worried about whether or not they’re having safe sex (it’s important!!!) by Halloween 2015 I'm thinking, Jack and Bitty are in a solidly monogamous relationship and they got tested together and it was actually sort of romantic, Jack's chest going all tight as they left the clinic, eyes caught on the way the sunlight reflected off of Bitty's hair.
> 
> Unfortunately this moment does not quite fit into the fic.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://jacksbits.tumblr.com)! Come say hi! ♥


End file.
